Owning the Mafia Don

Lucien

He stood under the cold spray of water willing himself to control his raging hormones. Placing his large hands on the tiled walls of the bathroom, he flexed his powerful arms and shoulders fiercely and tilting his head to take the brunt of the water, he swore again and again.

That he could barely control his desire to take his wife into his arms and f*ck her mercilessly was driving him crazy. He did not want any other woman, only the soft, beautiful little one who had been snuggling up to him trustingly all night after he had picked her up and forced her to lie beside him in the master bedroom they had shared all this while. She had been trembling with fear but he had held her to his body and soon, she had relaxed and drifted off into a deep, exhausted sleep.

What unmentionable harassment she must have suffered, he thought as he lay beside her, his naked body wanting to possess her again. But his love for her, for love it was, made him severe with himself.

Brutally crushing his bestial urges, he had held her to him. The orange vanilla fragrance of her body lotion, her shampoo…? had wafted up to him and he had leaned back to look at the innocent face.

He had smiled, his lips twisting as he studied her face, those long lashes sweeping onto the plump cheeks. Her mouth, those plump lips which were ripe and lovely, parted slightly. Unbidden, the memory of how she used to take him in her mouth, wrapping her lips around his hardness lovingly as she sucked him, came to him. He groaned softly. just looking at her mouth made him want to come.

As though controlled by a longing he could not handle, his gaze moved downwards, unwillingly. The full breasts cushioned lovingly against his darker hued chest, the firm nipples rubbing against his chest, his crisp chest hairs lovingly curling around her pale flesh.

“F*CK! ‘ he swore and she stirred. Her mouth curved in a sensuous smile although she was fast asleep and she hugged him closer, murmuring his name.

He lay rigid, aware only of the thick shaft that was prodding her belly, wanting to enter her soft sex forcefully. The wetness from his manhood leaked out and he struggled with himself. This was difficult but he was going to see that she slept beside him every night, safe from her nightmares.

***

Proserpina

I came awake, languidly, stretching my arms above my head. Looking around, I realised that I was in Lucien’s bedroom, not the smaller one that I had chosen to sleep in. But there was no sign of my husband himself.

I sat up slowly, aware that my babies needed to be fed. My breasts were full and swollen, aching.

We had decided to start them off on formula and Beatrice and Camille had taken over that responsibility. The women seemed to understand that I needed some time alone.

I was grateful to them.

I had a long shower, humming to myself. As I lathered soap over my body, I shut my eyes and thought of those days when I had been denied a simple wash. I sighed and turned and stopped short.

Lucien stood in the doorway, staring at me. The hunger in his eyes was undisguised but he said nothing. He was dressed to go to work, in a semi-formal suit.

Dark blue business suit, with a crisp white dress shirt, leather shoes and socks.

I felt the heat rise up in my face. I was stark naked!

And yet there was something deliciously erotic in standing before my lover, clad in nothing while he, in his formal suit, devoured me with his greedy eyes, not moving his narrowed gaze from me.

Blushing furiously, I moved awkwardly, aware that my nipples were hard and erect, prominently so. And that Lucien was staring at them in undisguised lust.

Grabbing my pink fleecy towel off the rail, I stepped out, avoiding his eyes. He stood watching me as I dried my hair with shaky hands.

Finally, I moved to the door.

‘I need to take my clothes, ‘ I whispered as he continued to stand there, like a rock, blocking my way.

He looked down at me and then bent his gaze to my mouth.

Moving closer so that I could feel the heat of his body, his citrus cologne making me dizzy with longing, he snarled,

‘You don’t know what you do to me, woman.’ and took my mouth in his in a harsh kiss. I pushed at his shoulders as my breasts were crushed against his jacket. He tugged at my towel savagely and suddenly, I was naked and shivering before him.

Breathing hoarsely, he lifted his face, eyes glittering with passion.

“Ah, woman!’ he exclaimed and abruptly, turned on his heel and left the room. I stood staring after him.

It had cost him a lot, I knew.

Lucien was never one to control his desires when it came to sex, but he had actually turned about and left because he did not want to push me.

Raising a trembling hand to my swollen lips, I thought,Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

‘Lucien Delano, I love you…’

***

Lucien

He strode into the study where he was operating from ever since he had returned with his woman safely with him.

It took him a while to return his concentration to his work. His blood was fired up; seeing her naked in the bathroom, her body glistening wetly, clean and smelling fresh, the look of innocence on her face.

He swore crassly and Beston raised his eyebrows. The man practically lived in the war room, gathering information, sorting out the unrelated news and making sure Lucien was aware of any small movement made by the rascally Dmitri Rudenko.

‘Any news?’ rasped Lucien as he strode over to his large table, looking at his phones as he sat.

He had his people all over Europe, tracing Dmitri Rudenko. The man had been seen at Don Ricci’s villa in Sardinia but had taken flight a few days ago. Then he had been spotted at a hideout in Nice but had disappeared just before the place was blown up by Lucien’s men. The next sighting had been in Venice and then, he was spotted moving towards the Middle East.

Lucien knew that he had to snare the man before he disappeared into the wilds of Afghanistan.

Beston nodded and handed him a sheaf of papers. Lucien stared at them, reading the messages his spies had sent. His pulse was hammering in excitement but it was a totally different sensation.

Lucien St. Claire had finally sighted his prey. Dmitri Rudenko was in his crosshairs.

Eyes glinting coldly, he looked up to meet Beston’s’keen gaze.

“Get me, Schwartz,’ he barked.

“We need to leave now.’